


Small Victories

by throwntotheair (eloquentelegance)



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 20:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7402078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloquentelegance/pseuds/throwntotheair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason has plans, big plans, dangerous plans. He doesn't have time to babysit.</p>
<p>(Except no one ever told Damian that.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Victories

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by thrakaboom's art here:
> 
> [Here](http://thrakaboom.tumblr.com/post/140979230002/quick-doodle-of-baby-dami-and-jason-back-when-jay)
> 
> a sort of sequel to
> 
> [Firsts](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7378729)

Cuteness is not a thing in the League of Assassins. More importantly, cuteness shouldn’t be a thing in the League of Assassins. 

He feels a small, spit-sticky hand on his bicep. He tries to ignore it, focusing on counting his reps. The hand smacks him for his insolence. Snorting loudly, he rolls his eyes and lowers himself to the ground. 

Jason thinks it says a lot about the universe because cuteness is a thing in the League of Assassins.

Still, he’s got to give the little imp credit, feeling chubby arms and legs scramble up his shoulder. Damian is fast. At 18 months and counting, the kid skipped walking and started running. Jason has never seen him crawl, but he climbs on everything, up to and including Jason. It just figures that Talia’s kid wouldn’t deign to stay on the ground, preferring always the highest point he can reach. And Jason is pretty damn tall, so hell. 

He’s supposed to be training. He’s got this whole vengeance plan all drawn up. Something green and hissing burns him from the inside out. He doesn’t sleep often, he beats every tutor bloody, and he blacks out sometimes, waking up to filth on his nails, his cheeks, his tongue. Jason’s really not in any position to be catering to a kid.

“You learn your numbers yet, imp?” Jason asks, pushing himself up.

“Yeth,” Damian sniffs, as if offended by the very assumption of his stupidity.

Jason chuckles low. “Okay, I’m on 33. Can you count aloud for me?”

“Tt.”

Jason takes that as a yes. Because Jason never could say no to kids. This hasn’t changed. Lazarus pits, autopsy scars, and the Joker aside, it’s the one thing that remained, that’s still him and his. 

“34! Fatther, Jathon!” 

“Geez, you little - okay, okay! Watch where you’re digging those knees!”


End file.
